"It may," Norgate assented drily. "I can't help what it sounds like. It
happens to be the exact truth."

"I do not for a moment doubt it," the other declared politely. "I
believe, indeed, that there are a large number of Germans working in this
country who are continually collecting and forwarding to Berlin
commercial and political reports. Speaking on behalf of my department,
however, Mr. Norgate," he went on, "this is briefly our position. In the
neighbourhood of our naval bases, our dockyards, our military aeroplane
sheds, and in other directions which I need not specify, we keep the most
scrupulous and exacting watch. We even, as of course you are aware,
employ decoy spies ourselves, who work in conjunction with our friends at
Whitehall. Our system is a rigorous one and our supervision of it
unceasing. But--and this is a big 'but', Mr. Norgate--in other
directions--so far as regards the country generally, that is to say--we
do not take the subject of German spies seriously. I may almost say that
we have no anxiety concerning their capacity for mischief."

"Those are the views of your department?" Norgate asked.

"So far as I may be said to represent it, they are," Mr. Tyritt assented.
"I will venture to say that there are many thousands of letters a year
which leave this country, addressed to Germany, purporting to contain
information of the most important nature, which might just as well be
published in the newspapers. We ought to know, because at different times
we have opened a good many of them."

"Forgive me if I press this point," Norgate begged. "Do you consider that
because a vast amount of useless information is naturally sent, that fact